Malls

I really dislike that the Cherry Hill Mall and Echelon Mall have been getting revamped. I'm kind of sad that I never got to get a chance to take photos of the old interiors. My favorite parts of these malls were the older feeling parts. When Strawbridges closed down, it left an empty slot in the Cherry Hill Mall. I believe that is part that is currently being redone. That whole corner was sort of fabulously out of place. When I looked at it, it looked like the past. There was that huge escalator and balcony thingie. Similary, Echelon Mall had an older area like that too- I clearly remember that area being decorated for Christmas. I think it's all gone now. There was the Cherry Hill Grill in the Cherry Hill Mall that is now the Bistro. They do serve yummy food but I still remember when it was the CHG. I hope they will keep that there. I even remember the Cherry Hill Mall having a Woolworth's. I also remember Woodstown having a Woolworth's.

Two quick but awesome Woolworth's stories: One, the one in the Cherry Hill Mall was distinct because like many old drugstores, this one sold outdated materials. I remember getting Golden Girls (the She-Ra fakes, not the old ladies) coloring books way after their prime. Sadly, my mom threw them away one day just because they got wet. A slew of wonderous paperdolls and coloring books were thrown away that day. Luckily, I was able to salvage some ballerina paperdolls. Yes, when something I love is thrown into the trash, I am willing to dive in and save it. Don't even ask me how many times I've done this before because it's just embaressing.

Second story: Okay, so I remember Woodstown's Woolworths quite fondly. Woodstown was on the list of little downtowns that my mom would take me to on a Saturday afternoon for lunch and shopping. There was and maybe still is an antique store that we did shop in and also a diner. One day, my mom took me there with my grandmom. After lunch, we walked the main strip, ending up in Woolworth's. I honestly felt like I had entered a time warp. Everything was so dated and old and creepy, including the weird androgynous lady who worked there. She wore a smock. I ended up buying NIP doll clothes that were suitable for a Dawn doll. I never opened them but I did sell them at Cowtown about 3 years ago. Then I saw them in a Dawn price guide, so I knew they were authentically old. I'm pretty sure that Woolworths is gone but I do remember telling my mom and grandmom how I felt like we went back in time. Maybe we did, if even for a moment.

The thing is, all these places are sadly disappearing. People think its better to have our new and improved malls, but they won't be so great. Why do we need another Juicy Couture or White House Black Market? I mean, what makes those places special is that there is only one of them and that they are far far away. When the special becomes common, what is so special about it? What is special are those rare little gems like the old Woolworths and the vintagy corners of the malls that are now tragically gone.

It's like what I wrote the other night, where the small towns are dying down and it just kind of sucks. I remember when my mom and I discovered Collingswood for the first time. It was pure bliss. We were looking for the Friends in Deed thrift store, and we found it and many other treasures. This was all before Collingswood was the hip restaraunt town that it is now too. There were two thrift stores, an antique store, and an 80s toy store I kid you not. Seriously, that was my favorite place- this lady owned the store and sold strictly toys from the 80s. Anyway, we spent this beautiful November day shopping and enjoying ourselves. I remember capping the day off with a very nice visit with Lori. It was one of those days that just sticks out in my mind because it was so perfect. And then, so crappily, one by one, all of my favorite shops there began to disappear until only one thrift store was left, and it's not even the good one, it's the one that is just okay. Now Collingswood is just so blah, another trendy place to go and eat. Oh yay.

People used to rely on their downtowns because we didn't have malls. The Cherry Hill mall was one of the first in the area. Cherry Hill was one of the first pretty developed areas. Maybe we should blame all of this developmentness on them for starting it all in the first place. Anyway, pretty much every town in South Jersey has a downtown area that included a Woolworths or similar scale store, a movie theater, a diner, and several other small stores. Then these all got replaced by malls. People went to malls for their goods, and these small towns either suffered or got transferred into little art towns, which isn't such a terrible thing, it's just that it's not the same. I would have really liked to experience shopping in this- a soda fountain, a dress store, an afternoon film. I'm not afraid of change, but I just don't think that everything needs to be some overproduced, same type of place. Let's all do the same thing each weekend. Let's eat at the same places and forget any flavors. South Jersey was so unique, and now, it might be like any other cosmopolitan area, because people can't just travel to the city anymore. It's too far.

At least in Philadelphia building exteriors are salvaged and valued. The Ross on 8th and Market for instance, while on the inside is indeed a Ross, the outside remains the same as it was when it was another store years ago. It's kind of what lured me to Philly in the first place. Everything looked very steampunk- I was impressed by those buildings and the architecture and the way they looked against the grey cloudless skies. I felt like the heroine of a graphic novel.

In New Jersey, it's all about knocking everything down and starting fresh. It's why we don't have the red Custard shack anymore and we have Starbucks and Coldstone. It's why Delsea Drive will soon be the next Route 73. Everything changes and instead of preserving history, we decide to ignore it and pretend it never happened.

It all just makes me long for the past, for a simpler time and place.

Small Towns Bring Frowns

So Rachel and I tried candlelight shopping in downtown Haddonfield the other night. It rained, and only like 5 stores were open. What's the point of having candelight shopping if all stores won't particpate?

Small towns used to be my thing. My mom and I used to enjoy taking a Saturday to go to Haddonfield or Collingswood or Woodbury and eating lunch and shopping along the main street. There would usually be a bookstore, a thrift store, a candy store, and several other small gift shops.

However, it's all starting to change. The small towns aren't the same as they used to be. I don't know if it's the economy or not, but they just are lacking a magical element that used to be quite visible when shopping in them. I notice it more now because it's almost Christmas and that is the time of year I'd really enjoy shopping in these areas.

There are less thrift stores and used bookstores and more high end clothing shops and eclectic art places. These are not the stores that I remember. There are more trendy eateries than I can count, and less little mom and pop diners.

I find the whole thing disenchanting anymore. I would love for small towns to go back to the way they were, when it really was a treat to shop in them.

To Be Thankful..

Although I am thankful for many things, I am mostly thankful that Adam and I were only friends, and nothing more, or else him disliking me right now would be even worse. I cannot get over the fact that we are not friends. I can't and don't know that I will. I feel a little crazy right now.

I did have a dream last night about him that was pink (Yes, Pink!) and it was also a cartoon. And it was also so powerful that I thought it was real, and feel like there was something to the exchange we had in the dream. Remember how I said I believe dreams are other worlds? Well, in this world, we made up. In this world, we are still friends.

In this real world that we live in, it's bizarre because although a lot of our friends care about me and this whole rift thing has gone on, I still can't seem to get past well, at least he still seems to like them and want to be their friends. Where, with me, what the heck would it take?

Right now, I am going through wedding photos and trying to think of everything happy in my life. I am almost a student teacher. I am married to somone I love. I have a great dog. I have a wonderful family. I have terrific friends. I'm pretty good looking. I've got a story that I am trying to work on. I am me. I am me. I am me.

But if me is so great, why do I let the bad stuff affect me?

Dreams

This may sound really far out and strange, but I'm not so sure that dreams are just really dreams. I do not have any scientific reasoning for this, but it's just a theory that I have. I believe that dreams are portals to other worlds. I think that somewhere in time, these dreams are actually taking place.

I can't really explain this feeling, except that some dreams have felt so so real, that I can't help believe that in a way they are. It's like an alternate life or something.

Eh

So tired of politics, and of people who think they know everything about the election.

Kind of tired but I'm on a bad sleeping pattern.

I had a good day today. My lesson went really well and Freddie and I applied for our marriage license, so we can be legally wed now.

Please help me think of all the friends that I have that love me. If you are out there, let me know. I have trouble looking at the positives.

Remembering Shitty First Drafts

Well, I'm not quite as down as I have been the past few days. To be honest, I was fed a helpful serving of BS soup today, which just reminded me how some of the people in my circle can act and react to things. Eh, everyone has their own theories on things. Together, we could submit a thesis. I only wish that I had this sort of brain power when it came to school work. Oooh research.

Anyhoo, I'm pretty grateful to everyone who has put up with my whining. I'm no easy sell on forgetting things and looking the other way. When there's a bright side, somehow it always seems to be hiding behind the clouds. Every day gets better, though. And you know, The Golden Girls is on right now, and that's a show that has always comforted me. If only certaiin people hadn't gone all All About Eve on us, maybe our group would still be the same, but we're not, and me torturning myself by idolizing the past is really not going to help.

If any of you out there know him, I will request that you name at least five really stupid things that he's done to me over the years I've known him. This will remind me that he wasn't all good and pure, and that maybe he always had it in him to be a big ole jerkface.

However, when I am not happy, I tend to be a better writer. As my great brother Rob once said, "We should keep her depressed. She writes better." (This was during the super emo years of junior year of high school, blech), I have to find something valid about that statement. My emotions are at their purest and rawest when I am sad. Somehow, words just spring out of my mouth, ripe and ready to describe and create.

My only problem that I am running into is my typical problem of being discouraged because things are not perfect right away.

Side note- why must the television continue to torture me with commercials for Sonic, when there is absolutely not one nearby me? So unfair!

Anyhoo, I keep having to remind myself of shitty first drafts, 2nd drafts, third drafts and so on. I just finished the 2nd draft of a story that I had been working on for maybe a month or a month and a half. I don't know. I'm not really good at gauging time here. I mean, I'm the person who couldn't remember that my last good memory with Baconface happened over two years ago. Ooops. But it feels like 6 months ago in my mind, because in my life, time doesn't really matter because it goes by so quickly. But yeah, so now I am awaiting comments from my reviewers on the story before I move forward to a third draft, even though I already have a pretty good idea of where the story is headed. I did start new story yesterday that I continued onward with today. It's based partially on my relationship and nonrelationship with Baconface, and is actually something different than my usual material, structure wise- but that's great. It's allowing me to explore new avenues.

Eh, so maybe one by one all of my friends should drop me until I feel so bad that I just end up with a freakin' novel.

It's always the ones you want the most who end up slipping away.

You Get So Alone Sometimes That it Just Makes Sense

Thank you, Charles Bukowski, for making me feel like being weird was okay.

I'll never forget my first experience reading him. Back in 11th grade, there used to be a bookstore near the Walmart. This was back when mom and pop shops still pretty much existed everywhere, before corporations ate them out. Anyway, my cousin Anthony had been spending the weekend. This was actually the weekend that I last really remember him as a little boy, before he somehow got older so fast. I cherished him.

My mom had taken us shopping, and one of the stops was the bookstore. I found the Bukowski book. The main reason that I purchased it was because of the title, something about playing the piano until your fingers start to bleed. I unfortunately don't have the book anymore. Sadly, I lent it to an ex of mine that I really trusted, someone I thought I'd know long enough where he would actually realize what books meant to me. There were certain books I'd never lend out on principle. One was that Bukowski book. The other was Kafka was the Rage, which I recently re-read and found much of the magic lost, but aye, that is another posting entirely. (It is worth mentioning that this particular ex not only kept my book, but also a favorite pair of butterly printed intimates.) Bah.

Anyway, I found the book, bought out of dramatic's sake, and then proceeded to read each and every poem, with juicy hunger. When I came across "The Night I was Going to Die", I read it out loud in a very dramatic voice, making Anthony laugh and giggle.

Anyway, fast forward years later and his words still make sense to me. Maybe that's the point of writers. They give us something to identify with when we are going through the emotions. They give us examples of "Hey, I've been there. I felt that". They've done it for me enough times. Any crisis I go there, a book has been my best friend. Books help me.

I've been writing alot lately because a friend of mine suggested that I put my sadness into writing. I can produce something really powerful this way. This echoes the words that a former aquaitence had said to me many moons ago as well, and it always stuck with me. Sometimes we get our greatest inspirations through our pains. I haven't been in pain in a while where its moved me, but the way I feel right now, over this loss of a friendship, I just feel more moved than ever to put it all into words.

So, I actually finished the 2nd draft of a short story that I've been working on, and started the first draft of another. Instead of sitting here, feeling emo and sorry for myself, wondering when will I be loved, I'm going to try and make something of this.

But don't let my ex-friend take all the credit, unless you know, it ends up being bad.